


Moxie

by neverthelessthesun



Series: Moxie 'verse [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: :), Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Awesome Darcy Lewis, Darcy Feels, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Minor Jane Foster/Thor, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Post-Avengers (2012), Sequel Available, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, darcy is my fave ok, eeh mostly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 07:19:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4868039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverthelessthesun/pseuds/neverthelessthesun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Children never have Marks before eighteen unless their soulmate has died. A Mark is a promise, one soul to another, that they will meet and say those words. Darcy's Mark has always been with her, but her soulmate never was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moxie

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This fic was written in a mad typing frenzy at 2 am, and it is un-beta'd. As such any mistakes are mine and I take full responsibility. I would love to write a sequel, but I don't know if or when that will be posted, so stay tuned! P.S. Thanks to sarcastic_fina for the tip on formatting and No_shoes_no_shirt_no_Sheldon for the info on timeline. It's been updated!  
> Oh yeah. In my brain, this reads as pre-Steve/Darcy/Bucky. Don't have to read it that way, but if there is a sequel it will be those three. :)

Darcy has three words parallel to her diaphragm, trailing across the bottom of her ribcage like ghosts. They're ghosts because they're grey--a sure sign that her soulmate, the one who is supposed to greet her with those words, is no longer breathing. 

It should be impossible, that Darcy had been born with a grey Mark. That never happened. Doctors were baffled--children never had Marks, and a grey Mark at birth was unprecedented. Her mother had cried a lot when Darcy asked about the words. After all, the Mark itself was a promise--you will meet the person who says those words. It was fate. Everyone met their soulmate. And Darcy never would.

She had grown up knowing this. She accepted it about herself, that she was an oddity in that way, and also that she wouldn't be wearing bikinis like, ever. She didn't give up on the idea of love, though--many folks had soulmates who weren't of age yet. Marks didn't appear until your mate was eighteen. She was only twenty-one, she had seven more years until she was outside the normal age for getting Marks. Who knew what would happen in that time?

She met Jane on a wild goose chase for her final credits to graduate. Jane was plucky, smart, wildly sarcastic, and that seemed just about the perfect way to spend a semester or two. If she got roped into scientist-wrangling post-degree, well, who could blame her? Especially when her newfound best friend had such a hot piece of man-from-space-or-maybe-a-god as her soulmate. Obviously scientist-wrangling was much more interesting than political science with them around.

So, for a while, Thor and Jane were cool, and then Jane went on an extended vacation to Asgard, and Darcy was starting to really get bummed about her Mark. There wasn't really anyone to be friends with, or talk to, or even just hug. She hadn't resented her soulmate since middle school, but damn, would it ever be nice to have him or her around. 

Well, him. Probably. The writing was strong, neat and practiced. But definitely masculine. It was print, but old fashioned, like something from out of time. The words ran straight from directly the middle of her ribs to about three inches left of center, bold and calm as you please. They read, "You've got moxie.”

When she was a little girl, and her mother was still wiping tears from her tired eyes, she had asked, "What's that mean, momma?”

"It means you're very determined, honey. Means you're so strong and you can take anything the world throws at you, okay? Even this." (Her mom had died from cancer three years later, and Darcy still didn't forgive her some days, but most days she was at peace.)

Well, Darcy thought in 2009, when she was lonely and rather self-pitying, even if she never heard the words out loud, she could her best to fulfill their meaning. So by the time Jane got back from intergalactic sightseeing, she had taken self defense classes and knew how to handle several more deadly weapons than her little taser. She found she loved motorcycles and had bought a scrap heap off a dealer for cheap and was fixing her up. She had a few casual friends here and there that she invited to her twenty-third birthday party, and was working her way into--who would have guessed--StarkIndustries. It seemed they had some job openings in their public relations team. So, yeah, all things said, she was feeling pretty moxie-esque.

That was 2011. That was a good year.

In 2012, her words turned black. Darcy was scared stiff, and she didn't tell a damn soul.

That was also the year that aliens attacked--again--and the Avengers showed up on the scene. With none other than her new boss, Tony Stark, as the flying suit of many wonders. But he wasn't the front man. That honor didn't even fall to Thor, who, even though he was old news in her book, was still pretty impressive. No, the head of this team of superheroes and assassins? Real life Captain Freaking America.

She feels like he needed a more updated title. Captain Zombie From The Forties? Captain Thanks-For-Saving-The-World-Even-Though-The-World-As-You-Know-It-Is-Gone? Captain I'm So Glad You Aren't Crazy Pissed After All The Shit SHIELD Put You Through?

Well, it was a work in progress. And wasn't really her job to figure out. What was her job now, was putting as positive a spin on all of this so that StarkIndustries and, by extension, the Avengers, came out looking like the good guys.

That was her literal job description now, too, because her boss had been at Ground Zero in New York. Unfortunately, she hadn't made it out. So now, Darcy was pretty much the entire PR team all by herself. Yay.

Once she managed to get a line in to Pepper Potts, and secure a loose plan for how to handle the media backlash, she sculpted a fairly brilliant (if she did say so herself) press release. She ran it over a quick focus group, and had it out and available to all media sources before Tony Stark had even taken off the Iron Man suit. First impressions were doing well. She allowed herself to have a pat on the back and 12 hours of solid sleep. When she got up the next day, she had a bouquet of flowers from an unknown sender and a $500 StarkIndustries gift card. She sent a delightful thank you note to Pepper before she began working interference on the media stories for the Avengers.

Some time during that first day, SHIELD tried to liaison with StarkIndustries to cover the Avengers press, but the idiot they sent to help her out didn't know a polygraph from polygamy, and she sent him back with a scribbled "No, thank you," post-it note stuck to his forehead. Fury was rather angry with her after that.

Pepper, once she had ascertained that Tony and the company were in alright shape, stepped in to run point on the media fiasco, but she kept Darcy very close by to help her out. Darcy couldn't help but be rather proud of herself.

About two weeks after Ground Zero, Pepper tracked her down one day in the office and told her, "Mr. Stark would like to meet you.”

"Me? Mr. Stark doesn't even know my name.”

"Mr. Stark has advisors which think your work ethic and organization skills would be a beneficial influence on him.”

"Advisors, meaning, you?”

Pepper hummed and grinned like a cat. "You certainly don't mind sharing your opinions. Mr. Stark needs more people that are willing to tell him to sit down and shut up when he is being stupid. That's what he's asked me to provide for him, and you fit that requirement quite nicely. Besides, he does so love a good brag, and you understand enough about the current political environment that you won't let anything he brags about slip in places it rather shouldn’t."

She supposed her boss had a point. So she went up to the top floor of the tower to meet Tony Stark.

He wasn't expecting her, of course. She walked right in and took the bottle of scotch out of his hand. 

"Mr. Stark. My name is Miss Darcy Lewis. I'm a friend of a few of your friends, and it would seem that one or two of them want you to be told to sit down and shut up more often. So, here I am. Sit DOWN, Mr. Stark!" He was already drunk, or else she wouldn't have managed it. 

"Now, I've been head of your PR team for almost a month now and you've done nothing to lend yourself to the public eye. Captain Rogers, Agents Barton and Romanoff, and even Dr. Banner are helping where they can with the cleanup from Ground Zero. I'm aware of the money that you have donated, and the refugee housing you have provided, but what people really need to see is your face on the streets helping others. Otherwise, StarkIndustries is just a faceless money machine with no real care for the people under its provision. Are you following?”

Stark's eyes were glazed and he was slouching on the barstool. "You won't be of any use at all unless you're taking care of yourself, Mr. Stark. Bed. Now, and get at least six hours. Have some water and an Advil, then find me or I will find you.”

Stark grumbled. "Bossy lady. Sound like Pepper. You're not Pepper, I already have a Pepper.”

"Miss Potts sent me to do her evil bidding today, Mr. Stark. Now, do I have to hold your hand?”

"That is unnecessary, miss Lewis," the AI system reported. "My protocols are much more able to care for Sir on the upper levels of this building then, say, your office. Rest assured, I will be sure that he follows your instructions.”

"Thank you, JARVIS," Darcy said, making a mental note to ask Pepper just how wide JARVIS' access was compared to his security role in the rest of the tower. She watched as Stark groaned to his feet, then stumbled down the hall toward what she assumed was his private elevator.

A whistle behind her startled her enough that she turned, and she saw none other than Captain Not-Dead Super Soldier standing there, looking quite impressed. She froze.

He uncrossed his arms and sort of tried to--make himself look smaller, she thought. He was trying to seem unthreatening. So he'd noticed her shock at seeing an audience.

He smiled softly. "You've got moxie," he murmured.

Then she really froze. It seemed to be a whole 30 seconds before she could think properly again. It must've been less time than that though, for he didn't seem to notice her pause this time. She scrambled for what to say.

"You were here all that time, and now I must look like such a fool. Or a freak, and I don't know which is worse.”

His eyes got as round as dinner plates. "You--but that doesn’t--how?"

So that's how Darcy found out her grey Soul Mark turned black was Steve Rogers.

Turned out, Steve didn't think she was a freak or a fool, and so he asked her out to dinner. She accepted and they had a lovely evening, if one of the most nerve-wracking of Darcy's life. He walked her home, kissed her cheek, and left before she could invite him in for coffee and maybe, something a little bit more. She didn't expect anything different, and it warmed her heart. Her libido was unhappy, of course, but it was nice to know she meant something to him--enough that he wanted to do it right. 

She had seen her words, the two rows of them in her loopy cursive, decorating his bicep. And, yeah, she wanted to do it right, too.

Steve told her about his experience with Marks on their next date. It was a standard question to ask your mate, and obviously he had been expecting it, because he had a bit of a story prepared. 

"I had, I had a Mark appear on my eighteenth birthday. I was so happy, I knew I wouldn't be like the Waiting, I--I was nervous that they wouldn't want a skinny dock rat from Brooklyn," he smiled fondly. "But I was so glad I could burst.

"Right away, as soon as my roommate got home from his job on the docks, I yelled to him, "I've got a Mark!”

Here, Steve laid his hands on the table. They were pale, shaking.

"He said, 'Me, too, Stevie. Always knew it would be you,' which, was, of course, my Mark. Bucky and I found each other on my eighteenth birthday. We'd been friends for a decade before that, out parents lived next door to each other, we lived in the same orphanage until he was old enough to rent a place...he was my best friend.

"The Mark was romantic, and though there wasn't much stigma against same gender pairs then, there sure as heck was about living together before bonding. Well, Buck and I couldn't afford a ceremony, and couldn't afford another place, so we kept it quiet. Nobody knew. We got on that way from '36 until '41, five years, and then he went off to war and I went off to Rebirth." His hands were steadier now. "And well, you know the rest.”

Darcy had, at some point during the story, put a delicate hand over her quivering mouth. She wasn't crying on the second date.

"How...Steve, that's so awful." She murmured. "And no one ever knew?”

He shrugged. "The Commandos knew about us, they were swell about it. Peggy knew. I don't think we ever told anyone else." Darcy refused to break out sobbing.

Once she had collected her thoughts, he continued.

"I got out of the ice and I had your words on my arm. I thought I'd managed to find the only way to let down two romantic soulmates just by not being quick enough." Here she hissed, and he held up a hand. "It's what I thought then. I've had some counseling, and I don't feel that way now.

"It was pretty dark there for a week or so. I talked it out with Fury, and with my therapist, and even in the last month and a half since Loki I've been improving. I know I'm not responsible for Bucky's death. I haven't lost my chance to make it up to you." He smiled shyly. "Still, I'm not gonna sugarcoat it. It'll be a long and difficult road with me. I'm not--fully up to speed on a lot of things. I'm gonna need time, patience.”

Darcy grasped his hand. "I know, Steve. I know. And I'm still here. I guess that means I'm a fool after all, but I'm gonna be a fool with you, so I suppose it evens out." That made him smile.

After a moment of comfortable silence, watching the sun set over Manhattan, Darcy told her side. The being born with a grey Mark, that her younger years were filled with misguided bitterness but that she had found her "moxie", and that she hadn't known what to think when the Mark became black. "I didn't tell anyone about it. Not even my best friend Jane, and she's my resident weird Mark enthusiast, what with hers being in All-speak.”

Steve got a little divot between his eyes that made her want to press it softly away with her fingertip. “All-speak?"

"Asgardian language. It's why Thor sounds like he is speaking English, even though he's from space.”

"Your friend is soulmates with an Asgardian?”

"Yeah, Jane is Thor's mate. Small world, huh?" She hummed. "So, anyway, Jane is going to flip her lid when I tell her about you. She's gonna—"

"Darcy," Steve intoned. "You haven't told her already?”

Darcy blanked. "No, I can hold critical information from others. It's kinda my job not to mention anything more than what Pepper says is okay, and she hadn't told me I could talk about you yet, so I haven't. I do know how to protect Intel.”

Steve seemed confused, then shook his head as if to clear it. "Sure, I get that when it's about the Avengers, but your Mark turning black? Finding your mate? That seems, and correct me if I'm wrong, but that seems like the sort of thing you would tell your best friend.”

Darcy shrugged. "I could handle it on my own. Why bother her with more of my problems--she had enough what with Thor and Loki and everything.”

Steve got that little divot between his eyes again.

"I said something a lot like that to Bucky once. 'I can handle it on my own.' He said, 'The thing is, you don't have to.' I think that was pretty good advice." He let that hang in the air for a moment. 

"Don't ever think you can't or shouldn't come to me if something happens, Darcy. I'm not gonna skimp out on you. You don't have to handle it all on your own." He held her hand closer to him. "And for the record, you can tell whoever you like about us. Heck, if it wouldn't bring down the media on you, I would be shouting it from the street corners that we were soulmates.”

Darcy had to remind herself that there was to be no crying on the second date. "Thank you, Steve. It really--it means a lot to me. That you would, just. Thanks.”

Steve's smile was brilliant. He kept wearing it all the way back to her door, where he kissed her cheek and turned whistling into the night.


End file.
